No is but a two letter word
by Gothical-Fairy
Summary: Long two shot, HD. Even after they share a kiss, Harry is still reluctant to let himself fall for Draco. How did he get that way, and just what exactly is he supposed to do now?
1. Saying no

A/N; Well, this is the first (and long) chapter of a two-shot idea I suddenly came up with one day. Hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer; I own nothing, except possibly the plot. Sorry if this has been done before, but I did check around and I couldn't find anything like it. So, just so you know, I did come up with this myself!

Warnings; foul language, slash. Anything else you can think of that isn't suitable for kids is most likely also included.

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No. Nonononononono, no, no, no, no, no, _no_. No, it wasn't supposed to happen; things like that aren't allowed. No. It didn't happen, it couldn't have. _NO._

Funny, isn't it, how no matter how many times you repeat a word, you can't make yourself believe it? It was a pity, really, that all of a sudden the word _no _had lost all meaning to me, because as wrong as it was - as absolutely terrible as it should have been - I couldn't help but think it was oh so incredibly…amazing.

I stared at him as he drew back, not totally sure if I was awake or not. But, no, even after blinking a few times the image was completely the same; and yes, it _had _happened. But, what the hell? Just the how had _that _happened? I mean, everything was all right, so understandable and easy; but no, of course, nothing is simple for the boy-who-just-wouldn't-bloody-die, and Dr-_Malfoy_- just had to go and ruin the simplicity by…eurgh, I can't even bring myself to say it.

But whether I can say it or not, it still happened, and I was left stranded; I mean, just what the bloody hell was he thinking? What the fuck did he expect me to do; declare my undying love to him and pledge my unwavering loyalty? God, someone up there is screwing around with me, I just know it.

Okay, okay, I admit; it's not as if I was complaining at the time, and no, it's not as if I pushed him away. And, bloody hell, I know I participated but…oh shit.

He's staring at me now, looking apprehensive as he chews on his bottom lip; I've noticed that's a nervous habit of his, when he isn't wearing that bloody mask of his. Of course, he's letting me see every single emotion right now, I know how hard that must be for him…and yep, there it is, the twinge of worry in his eyes because I have yet to move…Oh, fuck it all…

Oh, all right, I can hear you back there; asking me just what the hell had happened to put me into such a bloody irritating and god damn confusing situation, and I know you want the full story. But, you see, the thing is…well, it isn't exactly the easiest tale to tell because – well, because as stupid as it sounds, I'm not entirely sure of the details myself. So, I ask you to bear with me, readers, as I try and get the facts straight. Well, I guess I'd better start at the beginning, eh?

I was listening to the headmaster give the usual welcoming feast when it all started; well, I was _pretending _to listen anyway, I wasn't really paying any attention. But I was looking at the headmaster and not talking to anyone else; that's what counts, right? Well, it kept Hermione satisfied, anyway.

He was taking an awfully long time, I can remember that much. Ron leaned across the table a little to whisper something to Dean who was sitting opposite him, and the two chuckled quietly. Dean then turned and shared the joke to Seamus, who barely even bothered to disguise his laughter. Hermione rolled her eyes at them, and I couldn't help but laugh a little at their antics; I wasn't bothered that I wasn't it on the joke, I'm quite sure they were just pratting around trying to devise a new way to get one over on Malfoy...oh shit, can you believe it? Only two paragraphs into my story and _already _that bloody idiot has wormed his way in.

Well, anyway, you'll be hearing quite a lot about him in this piece, I guess he occupied most of my thoughts for a rather long period of time.

But that's beside the point. Anyway, Hermione nudged Ron hard in the side, making him give a small yelp.

"For goodness sake, Ronald! Pay attention!" she hissed, ignoring his glare "even Harry is listening,"

Ron turned to stare at me, and I raised my hands defensively. "Don't drag me into this," was my only response, before I fazed out again, ignoring their bickering.

I know, I know, they should have been a couple bloody _ages _ago, but surprisingly enough it took them until the summer after our sixth year (barely two weeks ago, actually) to hook up. About time.

Dumbledore was droning on about house unity and stuff; same things as usual. I guess he feels it's his duty or something, because no one else is willing to get us students to work together. Well, not all the students; it's mainly targeted at Gryffindor and Slytherin, everyone knows that.

Sixth year was rather uneventful to say the least, we all think it was the 'quiet before the storm'. There were the mandatory death eater attacks and ministry raids on suspected death eaters; but many more death eaters were let free then were imprisoned. Lucius Malfoy escaped; that's a fact you should probably take note of.

I let my eyes scan across the hall; I had a pretty good view from where I was, with my back facing the wall behind me and the other three tables in front. Don't you think it's funny that the school finds it necessary to put the other students in between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables? I wonder if they assume we'd start fighting during breakfast or something; although, knowing our rivalries, we would.

And, shockingly enough, my eyes landed on the table furthest away from me, automatically scanning the Slytherins for that mass of platinum blonde hair that always stands out amongst the black and green robes. There he was, seated at the end of the table, a little way from the other snakes. What, no body guards? Funny, I could have sworn I saw Crabbe and Goyle on the train journey…although, looking back at it, Dr-_Malfoy _hadn't been with them.

I was brought harshly back to reality from my musings as the deafening chatter struck up around me, the plates on the tables filling with the glorious food that was always provided at such feasts. I began to pile food onto my plate, grinning as my best friend helped himself to large portions of everything.

"Hey, don't you think it's weird," Ron asked, food not yet in his mouth, leaving him free to speak "I mean, Malfoy didn't pay us the usual welcome visit on the train here,"

"Yeah, I noticed that too," I replied, furrowing my brows "I saw his bodyguards, but they were alone,"

Hermione – you know, I could _hear _her rolling her eyes – huffed a little, starting in on one of those little rants of hers.

"You know, perhaps this year you should pay more attention to your studies then this childish rivalry you have going with Malfoy; we _know _he's on the same side now, it's not as though he's about to kill us all when we turn out backs,"

"You're just saying that because you want us to pull out the books; and school hasn't even properly started yet!" Ron retorted, before proceeding to shovel food into his mouth.

"Maybe 'Mione's right, Ron. I mean, he's hardly dangerous, and without his backup from the other snakes, the fights will be rather pathetic,"

You know, I hear that Taiwan is a nice place around this time of year.

"'OO 'AT?"

Yeah, I know, it took me a little while to translate that too, but I guess it was 'you what?' Hermione grimaced, using a napkin to remove the sprayed food from her shirt.

"You know, Ron, I'm sure there are some people over in Australia that didn't _quite _hear you,"

I frowned, looking around the hall; sure enough, most eyes were now on us, and yes, you are correct; Dr-_Malfoy_ was also looking over, on of those thin, neat eyebrows raised in question. But no famous Malfoy smirk, no glare, no sign of malice…I looked quickly away, trying to keep the image out of my mind.

"Harry, are you mad?" Ron asked, having chewed his voice and lowered his voice to a harsh growl "Do you have _any _idea what you just said?"

I didn't bother to answer.

"Well, I for one agree with him. You would do well to follow his example, Ron,"

Yep, I knew I could count on her; Hermione jumping in and backing me up, just because she knew that meant I was agreeing to study. Heh, as if; I was agreeing to lay off on Dr-for bloody hells sake, _Malfoy_, not follow her to the library every day to bore myself to death with those dusty, sniffle-inducing books.

That's the only major incident that I can recall from that night, and everything for the first week of school was perfectly normal. Ron and I stayed away from Malfoy, and surprisingly enough he kept away from us. He seemed to keep his head down and get on with things, not bothering anyone else, or indeed _being _bothered by anyone else. His housemates pretty much seemed to leave him alone, other than the few taunts and leers.

Oh, did I forget to mention? With his father in prison, Malfoy rejected the dark lord. Most sane thing he ever did, in my opinion, but it was crazy at the same time; he knowingly set his entire house against him, not to mention his father. Ah yes, Lucius…he was irate, when he escaped and found out, but he couldn't do anything for fear of being caught again.

As far as I know, the Slytherin's under Dumbledore's protection. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't care. No, I _don't_.

No; there's that word again. It is proving to be of little use to me, right now, but I suppose it makes me feel a little better.

Anyway, like I said, for a time, everything continued as normal. Few had anything to say on the topic of Dr-_Malfoy, _for god's sake it's _Malfoy_, but few people had anything to say about him no matter what his name currently is. I must admit, I barely thought about him; but I found myself automatically looking for him at every meal, in every lesson; just to check he's still alive, I kept telling myself; it's a duty, it's not because I care.

It doesn't really matter if I cared or not, the fact is I do now. He caught me looking at him once or twice, but other than the raised eyebrows I got little response from him.

And then it happened. It's not really a big thing, on the whole; although, it is really, because it's almost where it all started.

I think it was about two weeks into the term; I'm not sure, but it was a Wednesday night and I couldn't sleep. I lay for hours, tossing and turning, but never sleeping. And so I decided to get out for a bit, have a wander. Taking my invisibility cloak and map, I did just that.

In a perfect story, I would have found a secluded area – most likely by the lake or in the Astronomy tower – and would either have found Dr- oh for god's sake, what the hell – would either have found Draco there already, or he would have quietly joined me a few minutes afterwards. We would have had an in depth discussion about something, and a load of truths would be revealed and suddenly bam, everything would have been alright between us. I guess a few nights later we would have been kissing and everything.

Oh god, that's a niiiiice mental image; no, no, _no_! Do _not _go there! Anyway, that is most definitely off topic. But, that is what would have happened in a perfect, simple story.

But this isn't a perfect, simple story, and neither is my life. My life is complicated and damn well annoying; anything, but far from perfect.

I walked around for quite a while, I do have to admit. I wasn't sure where I was going or anything like that, or even _why_. But I wasn't thinking either, so that was a nice change. I just kept walking and walking; and then I heard it. Crying. A soft, gentle hum coming from a darkened corridor, where I was sure there was a figure hugging their knees and crying gently in the darkness. It could have been a trap. It could have, but wasn't.

And this is where the little voice starts taunting me, telling me that this tale is becoming overly clichéd, but I swear it's all true. It all happened, coincidentally or not, and everything that I have written and will write is completely accurate.

I didn't think through my actions at all; I shrugged off the cloak, used my wand to light a hovering candle, and sat down next to the figure, leaning against the wall just as they were.

I could tell instantly it was Draco, his silvery blonde hair was an instant give away. But I didn't say anything, and neither did he. We both just sat next to each other, in complete contact down one side from our shins to our shoulders, in a more or less comfortable silence. Draco continued to cry, and I'm pretty sure he was leaning into me a little, but still neither of us said anything, and neither of us moved.

I don't know what I was thinking; hell, I don't think I _was _thinking, but I stayed there anyway. He looked so vulnerable, without that stony mask of his, and all I wanted to do was gather him in my arms and tell him everything was all right. But everything wasn't all right, that much was obvious, and if I touched him any more he would most likely have hexed me.

But I also knew that Malfoy's simply _didn't _cry; it wasn't one of the things on the list of Malfoy emotions and ways to express them that he could do. So, you have to admit, it was a particularly life changing experience; I mean, who else can say that they witnessed Draco – a Malfoy - crying in the middle of a dark hallway late at night?

After many long minutes – I don't know quite how long I was there for – his tears began to subside, and I realized to my shock that the pretty – wait a minute, where did _that _come from? – Slytherin had fallen asleep. I smiled down at him, gently stroking his hair as his head lay on my shoulder; and then reality hit me with a deafening 'clunk' to the head that left me with quite a headache for days afterwards.

Anyway, I finally snapped to my senses and realized where I was and more importantly, _who _I was with; and yet I still couldn't help but smile down at him, his soft features looking relaxed and almost angelic. I gently began to ease away, supporting his head as I lowered him to the ground.

Sighing, I realized there was little I could do for him, but I didn't want him to be caught by a passing teacher. So, I quickly conjured a small blanket, placing a nifty heating charm upon it to keep out the chilly night air – I had a feeling I was in the dungeons – and then gently laid both the blanket and my invisibility cloak over him, making sure to cover every part of his body.

Oh god, now what the _hell _made me do _that_? I wasn't thinking straight, I must have been under a spell or potion; but I trusted him, and I knew he would return it. The year before, I would have thought he would have stolen it, or held it at ransom or something, but not anymore. He wasn't my enemy anymore, but I don't know what changed that. Maybe the whole crying thing had been a devious plot from the start, but I don't think so. And yes, I think I did the right thing.

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"Harry mate, what the fuck happened to you? You look like shit!"

Ah yes, the in depth and clearly well thought out opinion of my best friend is always greatly appreciated first thing in a morning.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, hitting him on the arm.

"What?" He replied, pouting playfully "I was only telling it how I see it,"

Yes, I guess I did look like shit that morning; I had been out late the night before with Draco, so I was tired beyond belief.

"I'm fine," I replied, yawning "I just didn't sleep well last night."

I shouldn't have said that. Out of all the many excuses I had used in the past, that was _the _most stupid. You'd think I would have learnt my lesson by now, but no, not me. Good one, wonder boy. Face the consequences.

"Oh, Harry! Was it a nightmare, a vision – oh, it wasn't you scar was it?"

"Was it you-know-who?"

"Do you need to see Dumbledore?"

"Do you think it'll come true?"

"I think you should really see Dumbledore and-…"

And yes, there was a rant that followed that too. Bloody pissed me off, that one did.

"No Hermione," I interjected, as we all entered the great hall "It's wasn't anything like that. I just couldn't sleep is all,"

I looked around the room as usual, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table. Alas, no Draco. I don't know why I wanted to see him anyway, it's not like I cared; and I still don't. No, not at all.

But, it turns out I _did _make the right choice the night before - hah, screw you, little voice. When I returned to my dormitory later that evening, there was a brown package sitting on my bed, with a small piece of parchment laid carefully on top of it. I dumped my bag carelessly by my bed and sat down, unfolding the parchment to find two simple, insignificant and yet welcomed words.

_Thank You_.

It didn't take a genius to work out who it was from, and I knew without opening it that the package contained my cloak. I folded it neatly back up, placing it back in my trunk with the map, and then carried on with life as usual.

If only things were so simple.

From then on, I seemed to notice Draco more and more often; in the corridors, in classes, at meals when I really _wasn't _looking; everywhere I went I saw a flash of that silvery blonde hair, accompanied by seemingly dull grey and blue eyes.

But, it seemed he was seeing me just as much as I was seeing him; when he passed in corridors he would give me the tiniest nod of recognition without a falter in his step, before dashing off again out of sight. When he caught me staring at meals, he would sometimes give a very, very small smile; rarely seen and hard to spot, but a smile nonetheless.

And, funnily enough, I began to look out for those smiles, trying to pull at least one out of him every day. He has a nice smile, one that lights up the entire area around him without him even trying…but when he wasn't smiling, his eyes were dull and lifeless, his face set into his usual, uncaring mask.

I figured it must have been lonely for him, but I never found out for sure. We never spoke.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?"

Oh god, the book-worm patrol is on to me again. Sorry, I don't mean to be rude or anything, I really do love her for who she is and all that but…she coddles me too much, and it annoys me sometimes. Ever since what happened that time in the ministry at the end of fifth year, she's gotten it into her head that I need to _talk_. I mean, what is she, my mother?

"Yes, 'Mione, I'm fine," I flashed her a grin, returning to my notes.

"Are you sure? It's just, you're looking a little pale, and you seem to be really tired of late,"

"She's right, you know," Ron said, looking up from his own work on the other side of me "you have been acting kind of strange lately. We're just looking out for you,"

Strange? Who, me?

"I'm fine, really guys. I'm just lacking sleep, I guess,"

Ah yes, that ever useful and completely transparent excuse of lacking sleep. I know they don't believe it; hell, _I _don't believe it even now. Well, no, it's not the lacking sleep they don't believe; I guess they just don't understand _why_ I'm not sleeping. And at the time, I bloody well intended to keep it that way.

Hermione pursed her lips, automatically scribbling some notes down as the professor continued with his lecture. She narrowed her eyes at me, thinking carefully.

"You might want to consider seeing Madam Promfey about that, Harry. It could be a spell of some sort, designed to keep you awake and drain your energy…the least she can do is give a dreamless sleep potion."

I nodded to keep her happy, and she smiled at me before returning her concentration fully to the teacher. Yes, a potion would be nice, but even the nurse would want to know why I needed one. The truth is, I had been kept awake a lot thinking about Draco; I mean, _why _was he crying that night, and why wasn't he in his dormitories? What the hell was he doing in the cold, empty corridors, and why oh why was he being nice to us all of a sudden?

Fate, it seems, decided she hadn't pissed about with my life enough at that point, and chose to irritate me even further; just for kicks, you know? Anyway, when – at least a week or two later – I was still having trouble sleeping, I accidentally overslept one morning; completely missing my first class.

As you can imagine, I was furious with Ron and the others for not waking me, and instantly jumped out of bed, dashing around to get my stuff together in a hurry. By the time I was out of the door – still in the process of putting on my tie – it was half way through the third period, and I decided it would be more than a little pointless to join my charms lesson at such a time.

I must admit, had I had much choice in the matter, I would have gone straight back to bed. However, I knew that I was in for a stern lecture from Hermione anyway, and at least I could explain it all away as a migraine that had disappeared around break or something.

So, to waste the last half of the lesson, I headed down to the kitchens for some much needed food, and, as luck would have it, quite literally walked into Draco along the way. Bloody fate, screwing with my life.

I landed on the floor with a quiet 'oomph' and was quite shocked when a milky white and well defined hand was stuck in front of me, offering to help me up. Without even looking up at the owner of the hand, I gladly accepted it, bending down to grab my bag once I had regained my footing.

"Thank you-…oh, Malfoy. Hello,"

The blonde raised his eyebrows at me, giving a small smirk as I dusted off my robes.

"You know, you should really pay more attention to where you're going; one of these days you'll walk off a cliff,"

I chuckled a little, realizing it was just a friendly jibe, lacking any and all types of malice or venom.

"I don't think you'll need to worry about that, I'm sure I'll survive the drop as long as Voldermort is the one to push me off the edge. What are you doing outside of class, anyway?" I asked, scanning the empty hall way for any sign of other students. The blonde's eyebrows met his hairline as his smirk increased, giving me a glimpse of the old Malfoy I knew so well.

"I could ask you the same question,"

I blushed, shuffling my feet. "I ah-…er, I overslept,"

I guess some part of that was funny, because Draco let out a short laugh, a short, soft, sweet laugh that- oh god, I sound like a love-sick fan girl. Someone shoot me now.

"Ah, I won't ask."

"So, why aren't you in class?"

Draco held up his left hand, which was sporting a nasty cut that sliced right the way through the skin. I can't believe I never noticed; his robes were covered in droplets of blood, and he hadn't made any attempt to wrap the wound at all.

"Bloody hell, Draco!" I cried out, dropping my bag and completely forgetting to use his last name. I angrily tore off a bit of my shirt - it was an old one anyway, and his hand was far more important - then began to carefully wrap the wound.

"You don't have to, you know," Draco stated, pulling away. I growled, grabbing his arm and pulling his hand towards me before proceeding to dress the gash as best as possible before using a repairing charm on my shirt.

"How the hell did you do this, Draco?" I asked softly, feeling the taller boy's hot breath ghost lightly over my face.

"Ah, well, I guess Zabini's knife 'slipped',"

"Knife? What the hell? Did he do this to you on purpose? Why? And I sure as hell hope you were heading towards the hospital wing,"

Draco chuckled again, nodding.

"Yeah I was. And I don't know how he got the knife; we were in Transfigurations and he claimed his spell went wrong; I know it didn't, the entire Slytherin house is out to get me. Unsurprising, really."

I scowled softly, letting go of his arm once I had finished with it.

"Hey, who would have thought it," Draco said, smiling a little more "the precious Golden Boy looking out for a Slytherin. I'll see you around, Potter,"

And, as headed off down the corridor, I had to resist the urge to call him back, or at least follow him. Bloody Slytherin.

"Oh, and Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you,"

And after that, I didn't cross paths with him for a full two weeks. But I never stopped thinking about him; I couldn't understand how his house mates could be so cruel. And there was something else I couldn't understand; all of a sudden we were being so nice to each other, putting behind us nearly six years of hate…if it had been anyone else, I would never even have considered it. But it wasn't, it was Draco Malfoy and…and he is a completely unfathomable being that intrigues me greatly.

There was just something about him, something…Dracoish. I know, I know, it's not a word, but still…Draco was, is and always will be one of a kind.

Ah, yes, I know, I know, dear readers, you want me to hurry along to the juicy part, but please have patience.

Anyway, I can't hurry it all along, because this is where things get a little hazy in my mind. I mean, the days passed in a pretty much usual and uneventful blur, with very little action that is worth being noted down. There was one thing though, one thing that changed the entire way I looked at Draco; let's just put it this way, I couldn't look him in the eye for a _very _long time.

I was dreaming, I know that now, but I didn't then. Draco was there, and we were kissing passionately. He lifted me up in those strong, muscular arms of his and set me gently down on the bed, lips still firmly attached to mine. He kissed his way down my neck, stopping to nibble and lick a little in a particularly sensitive spot where my neck joins my shoulders which caused me to moan appreciatively. He slowly began to unbutton my shirt, teasing the skin beneath it with talented fingers as he trailed hot kisses down my exposed chest.

I'm quite sure you can fill in the details for yourself, and I'm also positive you know exactly what happened next in my dream. I was kissing him too, running my fingers over any and all visible skin, teasing his own nipples and messing up his hair as he tugged at my jeans. And then I noticed our complete lack of clothing, but I don't really think either of us minded as he went down on me.

And, then, just as that sheet of total bliss fell over me, I woke up, cursing the day Draco Malfoy ever became attractive. Damn it all, I had it bad. And no matter how many times I told myself that it was wrong, that it shouldn't happen; no matter how times I said _no_, my mind disagreed with me.

"Harry. Harry. Harry! Bloody hell, Harry!"

"What?"

Ron was gaping at me, turning slowly red from the neck upwards. I watched in fascination as the flush began to take over all visible parts of his skin, before my eyes switched to Hermione next to him who was frowning, as though deep in thought.

"Are you feeling all right, mate? You look a bit flushed,"

I shifted how I was sitting, thanking whatever god was finally on my side that my two best friends were on the opposite side of the table. Memories of that dream had been flooding my mind, and the school robes only hid the tent in my trousers to a certain extent.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine, perfectly fine," I grinned at them, taking another bite out of my toast. No, I wasn't fine. I wasn't supposed to be thinking about the blonde like that; and speaking of blondes, my eyes chose that moment to look over to the Slytherin table. I caught Draco's eyes, as was usual in our morning routine, and quickly looked away as I felt the blush rising in my cheeks. Oh, it was going to be a terrible day, I just knew it.

But then, it was Monday, and I have always hated Mondays. Oh no, it's not one of those random 'I hate Mondays' things because it's the start of the week; no, nothing as simple as that. I hate Mondays for a reason, a reason only I can fully appreciate to its worst extent.

On a Monday morning, every week for the past six years, I've always had double potions straight after lunch; with the Slytherins. I mean, you would have thought that the people who write up the time-tables would have gotten bored with giving us the same torment every Monday, but no, of course not.

The only joy was that it was quite a small class, being Advanced Potions. Don't ask me how I got into that class, I don't have a bloody clue. But Ron didn't make it; Hermione did, obviously. We all have to work alone now, because there's so few of us, and we also have a single Potions lesson later in the week where all the houses are joined in one lesson to make up a full class instead of around eight students.

So yeah, I hate Mondays for a reason. And yes, this Monday was going to be as bad as every other. We – Hermione and I – arrived in the potions room just about on time, choosing seats pretty much in the middle of the room. We all had to sit in the first two rows, it being such a small class and all, but other than that it was choose your own seats.

Anyway, as usual, Snape came into the room exactly on the dot of nine, his robes billowing out behind him; just because Snape wouldn't be Snape without his billowing robes.

"Books away, cauldrons out. If you did the homework, you should know what to do, so get on with it."

Ah yes, Snape was being pleasant as usual. We all hurriedly got out our cauldrons, everyone talking in hushed whispers to check they were thinking the same thing. I lit a flame under my cauldron, then went to the store cupboard to get out the extra ingredients. Of course, Hermione found them straight away and left me to my own devices; only I had forgotten the last few of the ingredients, and had very little clue of what the hell I should do.

"You should watch out, the asphodel will take a little longer than usual to crush today, because of the humidity in the room,"

I looked to my right, where Draco was collecting his own ingredients. He himself picked up a few of the roots, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Also, Snape moved the Lacewings to the top shelf, so they might be harder to find this time around, and make sure you don't add the Phoenix feather to soon; if the snake skin hasn't had time to dissolve, the potion could become deadly."

Then, without so much as glancing at me, Draco left the cupboard, leaving me gaping at his retreating back. Did he just help me out? I shook my head, gathering the ingredients he mentioned and praying they were correct. When I got back to my table and looked at the ingredients Hermione had gathered, I found he had indeed mentioned the correct items. I tried to catch his eyes across the classroom, but he was paying attention to his own potion.

I grinned, picking up one of the extra frogs eyes I had picked up (I have a tendency to loose the bloody things, so I always pick up a few extra) and threw it at the back of his head. He looked over his shoulder, scowling as he sought out the culprit; until of course he saw my manic grin, and I nodded my thanks to him before turning back to my own potion. Before my eyes were cast downwards, I caught the small smile that managed to slip onto his lips before he looked back to the front of the room.

Okay, so maybe Monday wasn't so bad after all.

"Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor for throwing ingredients across the classroom."

I stand corrected. I glared up at the greasy potions professor, but wasn't stupid enough to say anything. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly amused by my lack of a comeback, then stalked off to harass someone else. Hermione scowled at me, glancing up from her own work.

"Stop messing around, Harry!" she scolded, but I could only roll my eyes as a reply. I told you she was like my mother, didn't I?

"Professor!"

Everyone in the classroom silenced immediately, looking over to Draco who had cried out. He was clutching to his chest a blood-soaked arm, trying not to drip blood into his potion. Beside him, Blaise was grinning innocently, not doing well at trying to look concerned, clutching in his hand a blood stained knife. All I could do was scowl angrily; not again! Bloody Slytherins, I hate the lot of them; except possibly Draco, he's alright.

Snape was instantly at his side, inspecting the wound. It was deeper this time, but he quickly spelled away the blood and mumbled a simple spell to stem the bleeding. He directed Draco to go to the hospital wing, the gash would need more than his knowledge of healing spells to close it up.

"Potter!" The professor snapped, scowling at me "take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing, and be quick about it. No fighting, either of you!"

We both left the classroom as quickly as possible, not wanting to be around when Snape began to yell at Blaise.

"Zabini sure does have a habit of dropping his knife, doesn't he?" I mumbled angrily, walking beside Draco in a peaceful silence as we made our way through the dungeon halls. Draco gave a short laugh, though it wasn't exactly joyful, and nodded.

"Yeah, doesn't he just? I suppose I deserve it really, I was the one stupid enough to pick a damn side of this war,"

"I don't care, nothing warrants this kind of treatment!" I snapped, wanting to punch Zabini in the nose and then kick him where it hurts. And trust me, I should know, being kicked between the legs really does hurt.

"I mean, he's apart of your house, your friend! You share a dorm, he could at least be civil and not try to mutilate you!"

"We don't share a dormitory; I have my own rooms now. Too dangerous in the Slytherin dungeons,"

I nodded bitterly, thinking it through. "Makes sense, I suppose. At least you're safe in your own rooms, even though it must be lonely as hell,"

Draco had a funny look on his face, as though thinking through a particularly difficult puzzle.

"Worried about me, Potter?"

That statement caused me to stumble a little, tripping up on my own clumsy feet. I hadn't expected him to ask that, and in all honesty, the answer was yes, I was worried. I had been worried about how the hell he was coping, all alone, I didn't want him to back of from society and completely isolate himself as he had done those past few weeks.

Before I could fall, I felt two strong, familiar arms wrap around my waist, hauling me to my feet. Draco was now right in front of me, arms still around my waist, our faces dangerously close.

Clichéd line, no? It was a typical situation, I suppose, and if I had been in my right mind I would have pulled away. But, as it was, I didn't, not even when I noticed his eyes slipping close as he leaned forward to close the gap.

And this just proves how out of it I was; I felt my own eyes closing, and my arms snaking their way around his neck without my permission. Then the waiting was over; his mouth was on mine in a gentle and, dare I say it, caring kiss. He drew back after a moment, searching my face for some kind of reaction. I guess he got one, because I put a hand behind his head and drew him back down again.

This kiss was more heated, passionate; my hands running through his hair and his hands un-tucking my shirt. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, exploring as I stilled in a moment of hesitation. He gently ran his tongue over mine, which had previously lain motionless, and I was instantly kissing back again, our tongues twisting and dancing together as I felt him pull me closer. I couldn't help but let out a small moan of pleasure, the feeling of completeness and ecstasy taking my blood for a joy ride throughout my body.

And, the worst part is, all I could think about was how unbelievably _right _it all was, how absolutely amazing it was and how alive I was feeling. But then, with one last lingering kiss, he was pulling away.

And that, my dear reader, is where you walked in.

A/N; well, that's chapter one written. Whatcha' think? I hope you liked it, and I'll post the next one soon as well.

Leave a review please, your thoughts and comments are appreciated.


	2. Saying yes

A/N; here's the second part, hope you like it.

Disclaimer; yeah yeah, not mine

Warnings; Slash, bad language. I repeat the 'slash', okay?

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Oh dear god, I've just realized, I still haven't said anything yet. He's still biting his lip, I can see a little trail of blood beginning to emerge…oh, no, no, no, no! Stop bloody well looking!

I tear my eyes away, now biting my own lip as I try to decide what to do. That was wrong, right? That shouldn't have happened. Maybe he's confused from blood loss. I mean, just what the hell did he expect to gain? What the fuck does he want me to do?

I glance up at him, my eyes meeting his in a brief moment where I just want to scream at whichever deity decided to screw around with both of our lives.

"Come on," I say softly, moving out of his grasp "we need to get you to hospital wing,"

I shove my hands into my pockets, not daring to look back and see how he's handling it. He probably won't know what to make of my reaction, but I want to avoid a confrontation at all costs. I don't know what to do, and walking away seems like the best plan of action.

"Harry!" Seems like Draco has other ideas.

I stop, waiting for to catch up with me. He takes hold of my arm, spinning me around to face him.

"What the hell do you want from me, Draco?" I cry out, pulling my arm back. He looks like a little lost puppy now; I just hope he doesn't put up a mask again. If he does, it means I've hurt him too much, and I don't want that. I don't want to hurt him but…I don't want him to hurt me either.

"What do you mean?" he asks, stepping forward as I step back.

"What the hell was that?"

"Well, I believe they call it a kiss," was the blonde's drawled reply, as raised an eyebrow. Oh, he looks oh so delicious…no, no, no!

"W-why? What the hell do you want from me?" I ask again, backing up. "What have you done to me? Why do I feel like this?"

Oh dear, he's confused now. Well, I'm not really surprised, I'm confused now too. But then, why do I feel like this? My life is being turned upside down by all this, and I know it can't happen, and yet I still want more. I still want to feel his lips upon mine, his fingers on my skin and his skin beneath my own. I want to be close to him, to see his smile just once more…no, no, no, no, no! How did I get like this?

"Feel? Harry, feel like what? I haven't done anything to you, I swear," he smiles a little, trying to come closer.

"No!" I cry, stepping back once more – imagine my horror when I find myself up against a wall.

"Harry, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"It shouldn't be this way!" I think I'm babbling a little, but I'm quite sure he's not totally following what I'm trying to say. I shake my head violently, running a hand through my hair.

"I don't know what the hell you've done to me Malfoy, just stay the hell away!"

He's scowling now; I think he's angry with me. Well, I'm angry with me too, but he doesn't have to look so put-out at the same time.

"I didn't do anything to you, _Potter,_" he replies, putting the stress on my last name. He steps forward, so now he's right in front of me again. He takes hold of my arms as I try to move away, pinning them to the wall above me.

"Let go of me!"

"I don't know what you're feeling, Harry," he whispers in my ear, his breath ghosting over my skin. I know for a fact that if he keeps up this act much longer my legs are going to give way beneath me, and I'm quite sure I'll let him do whatever he wants.

"But I can assure you it's all very much real. Admit it; you wanted that kiss just as much as I did,"

I scowl as he pulls back to look at me, smirking in that annoying but very cute – no, no, no! he is _not _cute! – way of his.

"Keep dreaming, Malfoy,"

I think I made him angry again, but it doesn't matter, because he leans down and the next thing I know we're kissing again. Shit!

And that, I think, was my last coherent thought, because then I'm totally lost in the moment, kissing back and fighting for dominance over the kiss as he slips his tongue into my mouth. He let go of my arms, placing his hands on my hips instead, and I feel my arms wrapping around his neck, _again_, without my permission. I'm going to give those arms a stern talking to later, you mark my words. He deepens the kiss, pulling my hips into contact with his own so we are now completely chest-to-chest, and I let a moan escape my lips as the pleasure overrides my brain cells.

He pulls back, smirking triumphantly at me. He kisses my nose, flashes me a wide and very real grin that melts my heart, then walks away.

"Get over your denial, Potter," he says over his shoulder, making his way towards the hospital wing "and stop trying to excuse it all by saying I have you under some sort of spell. Trust me, you're not the only one that's scared shitless by what they're feeling."

And then he's gone, his robe flittering out of sight around a corner. I don't follow him.

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"Pass the potatoes, Harry,"

I roll my eyes at Ron, who can't be bothered to reach a little way out to his right for the bowl, and pass him his required food anyway.

"Cheers," is his reply, before he piles more food into his mouth. Hermione pulls a face in disgust; though you would have thought she would be used to it by now. Although, I don't think anyone can ever get used to it, you know?

"Hey, Harry, are you coming to the quidditch practice on Saturday? You missed the last one, and we have a match next week,"

"Yeah, I'll be there," I reply, nodding "who's the match against?"

"Slytherin."

Typical, no? Anyway, in case you're wondering, I'm not Quidditch captain; I turned down the position and it was passed to Ron. He's better at strategies etc, and he makes me help him with try-outs anyway, so I'm not missing anything. I decided I wouldn't have enough time to be captain on top of everything else that's going on, you know, with N.E.W.T.s this year, not to mention Voldermort and now this mess with Draco…I was right to turn it down, wasn't I?

"Great, just great," I say, and Ron nods in agreement.

"Yeah, I know, mate. But I've come up with some new formations for the chasers, so we'll definitely beat them. Besides, you're up against Malfoy; when have you _ever_ lost to him?"

Yeah, when have I ever lost to him? I have a feeling I'll be loosing this next match; I won't be able to take my eyes off him. Damn, just what the hell has Malfoy done to me?

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll wipe that smug look off of Malfoy's face," Dean says, grinning widely. I grin back, hoping they all think it's genuine. Out of habit, I look over to the Slytherin table; yeah, there he is, Draco, sitting alone as usual. Although, he is surrounded my people; he's sitting in the middle of the table, right in my line of sight. I bet he came in after us and sat there on purpose, just to annoy me.

But, the think is, although he's surrounded by people, they still don't talk to him – so he may as well be sitting completely alone. They look to be tormenting him a bit, and I see to my pleasure that he just replies with his usual sarcastic comments and they shut up straight away. But there's no smug look on his face, he looks rather…sad, really.

Oh dear god, he's caught me looking. I can feel the blush rising to my cheeks, but as I stare into those two cloudy eyes I can't bring myself to look away. He sends a smile my way, raising an eyebrow in question to my blush. He uses his eyes to direct me to the girl sitting next to him, who has yet to realize that her hair has suddenly turn a quite vivid pink and orange (striped diagonally), and her usual black and green robes are now painted in rainbow stripes.

I can't help it, I grin, my laughter mixing with that of the Slytherin students who have already noticed. It's quite a simple prank, really, but I'm sure it's sufficient as pay-back nonetheless. Draco grins at me, trying to look innocent as Snape makes his way over to their table. I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head a little.

"Hey, whatcha' looking at?" Ron is leaning over my way, looking where I was at the Slytherin table. He spots the girl and bursts out laughing, drawing attention from nearby students who look in the same direction; and of course, all of them are now laughing too.

"For god's sake," I hear Hermione say, though she to is smiling "they're so immature,"

I think the girl has just noticed what has happened to her, as she is looking into a mirror. Ah, yes, there's the screaming. I wince as she stands up, pointing accusingly at Draco who calmly flips her the finger. I laugh harder as Snape taps the girl on the shoulder, pointing to the doors; of course, she leaves in tears, running away from the laughter that echoes throughout the hall. Snape is talking to Draco, but I don't have a clue what they're saying. No matter, I'm sure I'll hear the whole story through the rumour mill at some time or other.

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Ah, finally, the comfort of my own bed. I lay down, pulling the covers up around me. It's been a long day, that's for sure, and now all I want to do is sleep. But, as I turn onto one side to stare at the closed hangings around my bed, I can't help but think about Draco.

Damn that blonde, the one who keeps me awake at night, who plagues my dreams with vivid fantasies, who changes his moods like he changes his clothes; which is very often, trust me.

And you know what; I'm not even bloody gay! None of this should have happened, none of it at all. I could have handled a friendship with the blonde, that would have been fine, but since when did I become attracted to him? And since when did I start calling him Draco in the first place?

I've barely even had a real conversation with him, so it simply shouldn't be possible for me to like him. I'm not attracted to him, I can't be. For six long years he was my worst enemy (he overtook Voldermort when I began to have erotic dreams about him), so how can we be nice to each other now? No, it can't happen. It shouldn't happen, and it won't. No.

Imagine the dangers; if his father ever found out he would come after us both, for entirely different reasons to his previous grudges! And Voldermort and, oh god Ron! What the hell would Ron and Hermione say about all this? And Ginny too, she still hasn't gotten over the fact that I dumped her half way through sixth year.

I can't believe I'm actually considering this. No, I'm not, I'm merely pointing out the reasons of why I won't be with him. Right.

But oh god, he's such a good kisser! And his smiles are beautiful, and he's funny and sweet and…and oh for fuck sake!

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One week. Well, almost a week, it's only Saturday if you want to be all technical about it. Okay, so five days; five entire days have passed since that kiss – well, those kiss_es_ – and I still can't get Draco out of my head.

Oh dear, Ron's just let out the snitch; that means I have to concentrate. I kick off, flying into the air as I watch the rest of the team practice below. Ron's only let out the snitch so I can practise; the rest of the team will work on stuff without me, and then I'll be filled in on match details later. I don't mind, there's not much for me to do down there anyway.

I speed up a little, doing a few warm up laps whilst keeping an eye out for the elusive snitch. I love flying, it's one of my favourite hobbies, and I always feel so- so relaxed, so _free _up here. I dip my broom, going into a sharp dive as I catch sight of a glint of gold; I know it's not the snitch, the practice snitch is silver, but it gives me a perfect excuse to practise a dive anyway.

I love dives, the exhilaration is the best thrill you will ever find and also a very good cure for thinking problems; the thing being that you simply _can't _think whilst in a dive, it's almost impossible to concentrate on anything other that not bloody well falling off and dying.

I pull out the dive just in time, feeling my toes skin over the grass as I climb into the air again. I go slower this time, actually looking for the snitch instead of just warming up. I do a loop in the air, chasing after a glint of silver which disappears quickly down the other end of the pitch. I speed up as I follow it, weaving in and out of other players as the snitch as gone lower.

Ah, there it is, speeding- downwards? I dive to follow it, praying that it will not sharply turn, but of course it does and I have to quickly pull up and roll over in the air to be able to turn and follow it.

It's gone, typical. I fly higher again, watching the practise below me for a few moments to see how they're doing. They're doing a shooting practise, seeing who can get as many goals in a time limit. It gives Ron time to practise and even the beaters can take part because it partly improves their aim; which is always helpful if we want the bludgers to fly _away _from us.

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Monday morning. You know how I hate Mondays, right? Well, today is a particularly horrible Monday, because not only did I not sleep well last night (and of course I also had another dream with _him _in it) but I also just found out we are being partnered up in Potions. And I know that fate is being prissy; therefore I am going to end up with Malfoy.

"Miss. Granger, Mr Zabini,"

I shoot Hermione a pitiful look as she frowns, moving to sit next to the Slytherin at the front of the room. Poor her, I just hope he doesn't try anything. Snape is smirking now; I bet he thinks that this is my worst nightmare. It's not. My worst nightmare is participating in a threesome with Voldermort and Draco, but let's not get into that because the thought of just Draco alone- no, no, no, no, no!

"And last but not least, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy,"

Draco knew it was coming too, and was already half way across the classroom when Snape read our names out. He sits down beside me, pulling out his cauldron and book; I'm glad we're using his cauldron because not only is it better quality (one of the perks of being a Malfoy) but I forgot to wash mine out after last time, and mixing anything in it could have proved dangerous. I don't fancy bright green hair, or an overly large nose thank you very much.

"I'll get the rest of the ingredients," he says, and I nod once before setting up the cauldron and lighting a small blue flame below it. I add some water, leaving it to boil as I begin to chop one of the roots that he had pulled out of his bag, checking the instructions quickly to make sure I remembered the size correctly; 1cm thick, even cuts.

Draco's returned, and is slicing his own ingredient; don't ask me what it is, I've never been good with potions. He is though, and over the next half an hour or so we only speak to discuss the potion, Draco often giving me instructions or correcting a mistake.

"For goodness sake, Potter, stop mutilating that poor leech," he says, prizing the small knife out of my hand. He is smirking, though it is more out of humour then anger or hatred, and begins to cut the leech himself.

"There, do you think you can manage the next one?"

"I'm sure I can, thank you, I wouldn't want you to break a nail,"

Ah, I think he took that the wrong way. His face is a stony mask again, and he drops the knife to the desk and steps away. I also notice he's pounding the seeds just a little harder than necessary, but who am I to talk?

I sigh, picking up the knife to cut the next bloody leech.

"Sorry," I mumbled "I didn't mean it like that," I run a hand – the one that's not covered in the disgusting stuff that comes out of leeches when you cut them – through my hair, scowling as I cut a chunk of the fucking leech too big.

"I just don't like Mondays much,"

"I think that's a little bit of an understatement," he's smiling a little, and I smile back, so I guess everything's okay. Well, almost okay, we're still pretty tense after that whole kissing thing; no, I still haven't figured out what to do about it all. I really don't know.

I add the leeches to the potion, and it bubbles a little before turning a pale shade of blue. I can't even remember what we're making, I realise as I stir the damn thing three times clockwise.

"Harry!" Draco reaches over suddenly, grabbing my hand to prevent me from stirring any more "pay attention! You've already stirred three times, don't bloody well stir more!"

I blush a little, moving my hand away from the potion; although I keep it there a little longer as Draco's hand lingers on my own before dropping his hand to his side again.

I reach over to grab a jar of some green plant or other; and my hand brushes over Draco's who reached out at the same time. My hand comes to rest on top of his on the jar, and I turn to look at him.

Oh god, he has the nicest eyes.

A harsh cough brought us back to reality, and blushing I removed my hand, grabbing instead the jar sitting next to the one with the plant. Draco smiles knowingly, then smirks up at Snape who is standing with his brows raised by our desk.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for delaying Mr. Malfoy in his attempts to make the potion,"

I glare at him angrily, opening my mouth to make an angry retort; only Draco got there first.

"Actually, Professor, I grabbed the wrong ingredient; Harry here realized just in time and stopped me before I could open the jar, which would have caused the herbs to dry out too quickly."

I smiled innocently, nodding along to Draco's story – where the hell did he learn to lie like that anyway? Snape mumbles something under his breath and stalks off, leaving me to gape at Draco; who merely shrugged and opened up the jar we had both reached for.

I turn to Hermione, who I just _know _is staring at me, and yes, there she is. She has this calculating look on her face, so I just shrug at her and give a little smile. This only makes her frown, and she cocks her head to one side as her eyes fly wide open. Then she simply smiles at me. Weird one that; Hermione I mean.

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Saturday. Saturday. Saturday. What was so important about Saturday again? I open my eyes, rolling onto my back to stare up at the redness that surrounds my bed. Saturday…Quidditch!

I groan aloud, rolling back onto my side. I don't wanna' play quidditch, don' wanna'! But I know I have to, else Ron will be mad as hell, so I slowly drag myself out of bed. I shower slowly, and get dressed in a lazy fashion before join Ron to wait for Hermione in the common room.

"Oh come on, eat something Harry! You need the energy!" Hermione nags, pushing a piece of toast onto my plate. I scowl at it, trying to set it alight with my eyes, then reluctantly bite into it.

"Ron! Ron! Harry, Ron! You won't believe this!" Seamus came darting at us, coming to a stop opposite us and sitting down.

"Malfoy isn't the Slytherin seeker!"

"WHAT?" Ron cries, leaning forward "What do you mean, Malfoy isn't the seeker?"

"Exactly what I said," Seamus replies, scowling darkly "they only just announced it this morning; they say it was finalized a few weeks ago, only it was supposed to be a secret so they didn't tell anyone. He's been kicked off the team because they say he's going against them, and they won't tell anyone who the new seeker is!"

My heart stops dead in my chest. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no. This is even worse; they've been training a new seeker, one that we don't the talent or habits of, and I have guarantee of beating him. Also, with Malfoy gone, I have no idea how safe I'll be; at least Draco wouldn't have tried to slaughter me half way through the match. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

"I don't believe it," Ron is saying beside me, the rest of the team gathering around him as the news begins to spread "I don't believe it; we're not prepared for someone else, we're prepared for _Malfoy_,"

"Harry will manage either way," Daniel Spouter spoke up – he's one of our chasers; a tall fifth year with lots of talent and little brains.

"Yeah, you'll be fine," one of the other players patted my back. Will I? What will you say if I loose? I don't know what I'm up against, I'm not so confident; why the hell are you all looking at me as though I'm going to win?

I try to smile at them, and they all grin back before returning to their seats. Oh yes, they're all fine, they're well prepared. Well, I guess I'll just take this match how it comes, I'm sure I'll be able to handle pretty much anything the Slytherin team throw at me. As long as it's not a two ton bludger with spikes sticking out of it. Shudder.

I glance over at the table of snakes, spotting my favourite seventh year. He's looking rather…well, usual; he's wearing a mask, I can tell that much, but I can't read into him at all. He looks up, easily being able to tell when I'm looking at him, and attempts a small smile – but it doesn't work, and soon he's leaving the hall.

I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is for him, being kicked off the team. I guess it was the Slytherins' pay-back, seeing as they couldn't attack him in any other way without their motives being questioned. I scowl darkly, glaring at the Slytherin team who are all sat together – minus a seeker - and looking proud. I'll win, I'll win just to prove that they were stupid for kicking Draco off the team. I'll win, and I'll do it for Draco. They will live to regret they're decision, because Draco was the only competition I seem to get these days.

But I will miss playing against him. I'll win anyway.

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"Harry, listen to me," Hermione lectures, as we make our way to the changing rooms by the pitch "you have to stay on your guard, this new seeker will most likely do anything to win the game,"

I nod in understanding, even though I already know all this. I'm not completely dumb, but I am nervous so I'm glad she's trying to help.

"Don't let them confuse you," she says "keep your eyes out for the snitch, watch your back, and just try to end the game as quickly as possible,"

I nod again, and she waves goodbye after hugging Ron, proceeding to make her way towards the stands.

"Don't worry, mate," Ron says, clapping my back "this new seeker won't be half as good as you; Malfoy was the only competition you've ever had, so they've only made it easier for us to win. Serves Malfoy right though, being kicked off the team; he didn't earn his spot in the first place,"

"But he was good player!" I snap, jumping in at Draco's defence. Ron raises his eyebrows at me, then nods slowly.

"Yeah, he was a good player. But he's also a bloody git. It's _Malfoy_, Harry, you can't deny that he's a bastard. I mean, I know you keep telling me to be nice to him; I mean look; it's not like I fight with him anymore. But you can't change who he is; he always was and always will be a slimy little Slytherin stuck up bloody prick who looks out only for himself,"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I'll never convince him otherwise, I know that.

"You can think what you like, Ron, but…ah, I don't know. Let's just go get changed,"

He grins at me, and we set off walking again, only to be stopped when I hear someone shouting my name.

"Harry! Harry!"

Ron and I both turn around spotting Draco coming our way. Ron scowls angrily, pulling out his wand, and I roll my eyes before telling him to go on without me.

"Go on, Ron, I'll meet you there."

"Harry-…"

"Go! I'll be fine,"

Ron looks sceptical, but he nods and leaves anyway. I sigh, then turn to face the blonde Slytherin.

"Hi, Harry. How are you feeling?"

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Well, I'm about to play in a quidditch match with no idea who my opponent is, with everyone expecting me to win anyway and the Gryffindor house pride resting on my shoulders, so I'd say nervous at best,"

He smiles at me, rolling his eyes.

"Don't be so dramatic," he drawls, stepping closer "it won't be that bad. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I was worried what they would do to me-…"

I shake my head, cutting him off.

"No, it's all right. Your safety is more important than a quidditch match, Draco,"

He smiles even wider, and I blush, averting my gaze.

"It's Brooks, a third year,"

"What?"

"Their new seeker; it's Kyle Brooks, a shrimpy little third year with bad aim, worse catching skill and little to no flying technique."

I smirk a little – dear god, the blonde Slytherin is rubbing off on me – and slowly nod.

"I think I know him, he was a substitute last year. He can't play well at all…is that _really_ who their new seeker is?"

Draco nods, smirking. "They're stupid buggers, in my opinion; I mean, who in their right mind would pass up my undeniable talent for that of a scrawny third year who plays like a flying pig that's lost its wings?"

I can't help but laugh, glad to see some of the old Draco reflecting through. I nod to him, smiling one last time.

"Thank you for telling me, Draco. I have to go,"

He nods, and I turn to leave, walking slowly away.

"Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?" I stop, but don't turn back.

"Good luck,"

I grin widely, and turn to reply; only he's gone, and I have a quidditch match to win.

--------------------------------------------------------------

I duck, flattening myself down onto my broom as a bludger skims over me, and then straighten up and quickly move away from that spot. Dear god, these people are trying to kill me, I swear; I have bludgers flying at me left right and centre.

Seamus, one of our beaters, has taken to flying not too far from me, taking care of any stray bludgers that pass my way, but the odd one keeps getting past. The other beater, a sixth year that I can't remember the name of, is working on the other team members like she was told to in the original plan, but she's not much help to me down there!

I glance around the pitch, trying to spot that tell tale flash of gold, but see nothing other than the figures of the two teams. Draco was right about the new Slytherin seeker, and he is still as crap as I remember him to be; only now he can fly in a straight line, and has earned Gryffindor two penalty shots for trying to sabotage my broom. Cheating little bastard.

Ah, there it is, down by the Slytherin chasers. I dive down, dodging between the other players as I chase after the snitch, which has now veered right and is heading over to the stands. I can hear the uproar from the crowd, and I know that Brooks isn't too far behind me, but I got the head start and am nearly there.

I duck another bludger, cursing as I turn a little of course, but quickly pick up the trail again as the snitch soars upwards. I follow again, reaching out my hand as my fingers skim over the smooth surface and then-…and then I can feel my broom being yanked hard, and I immediately return my hand to the wood so I can grip on tight as the other seeker pulls on the other end of my broom.

I've already lost sight of the snitch, and now my first priority is not falling off and plummeting to my death, so I quickly level out, no longer flying upwards. Brooks is flying along side me now, grinning manically at me, so I casually flip him the finger.

"Not so cocky now, are you Potter? What's the matter, lost your touch?"

"No, not really," I reply, yelling over the noise from the stands "only I prefer to go up against _real _quidditch players that have talent, you know? Playing against a third year is hardly any fun, and their lack of witty comments is really quite off putting,"

I grin as his smirk falters, and I give a little wave before darting off again, cursing under my breath. I was so damn close…

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I touch down upon the ground, still clutching the little snitch in my right hand as the spectators gather around me, cheering loudly. I'm swept along in the mass of people towards the rest of the team, and am swallowed in hugs before I can even say anything.

I spot Draco, hovering by one end of the pitch; leaning up against the goal posts casually and uncaring, though it's obvious he's trying not to be spotted by too many people. I grin at him, and he gives me a small nod and a smile before my vision is clouded by the many eager fans.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Monday mornings. Monday mornings, I have decided, are even more terrible then I previously made them out to be. The previous night was interrupted by not one but _two _dreams; both involving Draco and whipped cream, and both followed by a very cold shower in the middle of the night.

Then, I was accosted by Hermione; who reminded me that I promised to study with her tonight; how she ever got me to agree to that I'll never know. Then Ron knocked the jug of Pumpkin juice all over me, and it took me a good ten minutes to notice, plus a further five to remember the incantation to a simple cleaning charm, and now I'm running ten minutes later for Potions.

"I'm going to kill Ron," I mumble under by breath, skidding around another corner and wincing as my bag bangs violently into my hip as I set off again. He had needed help with an essay due in for his next lesson, and I of course was the only one available to help him. We had to go to the library for a resource book, and I was forced to run all the way from the library to the Dungeons when I heard the bell ringing.

I smacked forcefully into another figure, landing on the floor in a painful position. I groaned, picking myself up, and mumbling a quick apology to the other person.

"Not again! I'm sorry, I wasn't-oh, Draco,"

Draco shook his head a little before standing, obviously a little bit surprised, and then began to grin at me.

"What are you doing out of class?" I ask, picking up my bag; you know, I'm getting a small feeling I've been in this situation before.

"Looking for you,"

I raise my eyebrows, looking curious "and why, pray tell, were you looking for me?"

Draco shrugs before answering "I didn't see you in the line outside of class, so came looking for you. And it seems that I've found you,"

I blush, averting my gaze. "You didn't have to come looking, I'm just running a little late is all,"

He shrugs again, and together we set off walking at a steady pace back to class.

"You know, there was another reason I came looking for you,"

"What's your other reason?" I ask, shifting the weight of my bag a little on my shoulder.

"I wanted to catch you alone for a bit,"

I blush again at this, as the statement conjured up some rather naughty mental images that represented the events that could follow a statement such as that.

"Why?" I ask slowly, looking over at him.

"I wanted to congratulate you on your win on Saturday,"

I look away. That wasn't what I was hoping he would say; I had done a lot of thinking over the weekend, and come to one conclusion; I liked the kiss and I like Draco. Simple, I had thought. But things are never that simple for me.

"But also because I wanted to do this,"

And he's kissing me again, only this time it's slow and sensual, with more feeling than before. He pulls the bag from my shoulder and lets it drop to the floor, then backs me up against the wall. I don't object in the slightest, and one of my hands jump to his hair as his snake their way underneath my shirt. He runs his tongue gently along my bottom lip, causing me to moan and give him ample time to slip into my mouth.

The kiss becomes heated, his fingers leaving a hot path on my skin from where they're teasing my chest and back, and his hair becoming messed up and his tie loose as I reach to undo the knot. My other hand finds his hip, rubbing circular motions there on a patch of skin, and as our tongues caress the other another moan is heard, but neither of us are sure who it was from.

He pulls back when air becomes a necessity, and I am unsurprised to find that the only reason I'm still standing is that his arm around my waist is supporting my weight. My mind is a little clouded to begin with, and the first word out of my mouth was a simple, if a bit husky;

"Wow,"

Draco chuckles a little, and a blush began to spread to the parts of my face not already flushed from the kissing. He kisses my nose softly once, and then we both just look at each other, my forehead resting against his.

And for the first time since the beginning of the year, that little 'no' is almost unheard, like a singular voice straining to be heard over a crowd of others. Oh, it's still there, telling me that no, this is wrong and no, I shouldn't be doing this. But the crowd is saying something different, so it's unnoticeable if a pretend to be just a little bit deaf, right?

Mondays are absolutely terrible, eh? I stand corrected.

I have no idea how I got here, and I have no idea where this will go, but I am quite sure I am doing the right thing; and even if I'm not, _no_; I don't care, because no is just a two letter word and I know a better word which beats it every time.

And, pulling him down again with intent to snog his brains out, I finally decided to start saying yes.

A/N; Ah, well, that's this finished. I hope you liked it, I have no idea where it came from so...(shrug). Reviews are appreciated! By the way, there may be a sequel to this, as I have another idea of where the relationship leads to and how they break it to Harry's friends and stuff…let me no what you think.


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